Not the Color of a Spy's Cloak
by Emeliore
Summary: Severus Snape is the leader of the Serpent's Den. Welcome the new Transfiguration Professor: the Vampire James Potter. Something is wrong with Harry, an invisible wall had been erected to block the father and son relationship by Dumbledore.
1. The Scene Behind The Curtain

Standard disclaimers apply. Anybody who sues me proves himself that he is an utterly stupid dumbass who cannot think.

Summary: Contrary to what others presumably know or think, Professor Severus Snape is not a spy but the _employer_ of spies. And also contrary to what other people think, Albus Dumbledore is really manipulative bastard more than genial omnipotent old coot he's made himself to be.

****

Silver, Mercury and Moonlight are not the color of a spy's cloak

__

Astral Fou-lu

"Severus…you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready…if you are prepared…"

"I am."

The next day.

The short exchange of words between Professor Severus Snape and Dumbledore jarred him so much to the extent that he had to take a potion of Dreamless Sleep before going to bed last night. 

And now, faced with the usual image of students scribbling down potion ingredients like meek lambs (_for the slaughter_, as Severus would say), he had to put on the mask of indifference, not letting himself have the liberty to put down his defenses and think about the matter, no, Quest for the Grail that was waiting for him as the term ends. _More like the Death March_, Snape thought sourly as he stopped scribbling. He barked a few hasty instructions to follow what was written in the blackboard and excused himself from the class for a short while.

Snape sped his way up to the astronomy tower where he was to meet an important pawn of Dumbledore's, he had half-expected it to be Lupin or Sirius Black, but chances are slim; the two were away risking their wizard-length lifespans to walk the tightrope above the lion's pit for Dumbledore. Severus was uncertain if they were to return in functioning shape: Albus Dumbledore was, as far as Severus Snape was concerned, a manipulative bastard. In no any genial way.

Slightly panting, Severus got hold of the railing in the wind-swept balcony of the Astronomy Tower and let it support his weight for a while. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see one of _his_ spies perched precariously on the other side of the railing, his legs dangling in the air with the solid ground almost waiting for him to fall, almost a mile below.

"Getting older, Professor Snape?" the younger man leapt up and walked over to his master, but he was about to offer his arm when Severus pushed them out of the way, albeit gently.

"No need of that, Emeliore," Snape took five seconds to regain his regal composure. Emeliore appraised his employer's default stance, veiled admiration and non-patronizing respect in his eyes. As he was slightly (yes, slightly) flattered that somebody who had obviously better physical faculties than he had would ever admire him the way Emeliore had, he could not help himself but express displeasure at the sight of blood dripping from Emeliore's silver sword sheath.

"I told you, man of Frost, that you should avoid killing people. Whether they be enemies nor allies," Severus reprimanded Emeliore, eyes steely.

Ice-blue met his beetle-black stare. "Master," Emeliore began, his soft voice insinuating into the chilly air despite the cacophony of the gale, "it was necessary. Avery and some other lackey of that You-Know-Who-Should-Get-His-Ass-Whipped should be eliminated. There was no other way, if only you had sent my cousin then she would have performed the Memory Charm…you do well know that I am not a wizard."

"And Albus Dumbledore would probably get around it with his deviant stories and his equally fictional self," Severus spat, fully recovering his composure _and_ his venom. "You know the bat will do everything to make himself look like the bloody saint nailed on the cross. You know that he wants the Wizarding Community's sympathy all to himself. We should be careful, Emeliore of Frost, that we should not spoonfeed Dumbledore opportunities to make himself look pure as the shade of white."

Emeliore, unfazed, only shrugged. "Then that would make him the filthiest shade of white," Combing a hand through his long, luxurious blue mane, he pulled a strand and gave it to Severus.

"What will I do with this?" Severus asked, incredulous, but took the lone strand of hair anyway.

"Tell Draco that if ever he should want to murder Dumbledore by himself, he could make a Polyjuice potion in my image," Emeliore climbed the railing and stood up, ramrod straight. "save Harry Potter from the clutches of the wicked old hag…poor Harry."

"I agree." Severus turned away to go back inside the tower and at the same time, Emeliore of Frost let himself be taken by the wind and returned to his Land of Ice.

__

It is our job, though, to make the Gryffindor House look pure, Snape thought as he swept away to the inner bowels of the dungeon. _That way I can reclaim what is rightfully mine._

* * *

Handling the vial of mercury carefully and tipping it over the cauldron of Wolfsbane, Severus did not even flinch the slightest when a soft knock resounded through his office from the door.

"Enter," he said, voice sinuous and almost dripping with what could be compared to cream. 

Seventh-year Hermione Granger peeped into the room. "You rang, sir?'

Rolling his eyes at a purposefully bad joke Snape put down the now-empty vial and with a free hand beckoned Hermione to enter. His greeting of choice was the question: "How are your acting skills?"

"Well," Hermione thought about her question as she climbed onto a stool nearby where Snape was working, "I didn't need to do some acting that much, everything is chaos about the Dark Lord. 'Oooh,' they would scream. 'Dark Lord this and Dark Lord that," she said, almost whining. "And I still could not get over with that remark about my teeth."

Snape mock-smiled and said, almost consolingly, "It's in the contract."

"Do not patronize me, Slytherin scum."

"Ten points-"

"-from Gryffindor," Hermione finished for him instead. She very well knew that if were any student other than her who had insulted Snape like that, it would be instant expulsion. "Could you get a more…innovative defense mechanism?" Knowing by the smell alone that Snape was preparing a Revealing Potion, she went ahead and ground some cicadas.

"Did you know that cicadas are eaten in Vietnam?" Snape asked, casually, as he saw that his prized student (and spy) was helping him. He thought that an exchange of trivia would be enough for the girl who craved knowledge.

He would be sorely disappointed. "I just watched about it on Discovery Channel," Hermione said artlessly. "Joys of cable television."

Silence.

After what seemed to be fifteen minutes, Hermione broke the silence. "I brought a new pensieve, as usual."

Snape interpreted what she had said, judging from her tone of voice, _Doesn't this destroy you? Would you be okay?_

"It cannot be helped," Snape said curtly. "I did so much already. I could not risk what we had accomplished and also the lives involved." 

That was enough for Hermione. "Give me your current pensieve, then."

Moments later Severus and Hermione sat on the cold floor across each other, two pensieves betweem them. Severus looked pensive through his eyes but his composure never betrayed his anxiety. Hermione was tapping her wand, collecting her strength for the spell.

"Are you ready," Hermione whispered, finally.

"Yes," Severus answered without a beat.

Hermione promptly pointed towards the wizard's head with her wand, transfigured into a sharp ice-pick for the purpose, and rammed it straight into his brain. Hermione whispered an incoherent spell and yanked back her wand/ice-pick, taking along with it his memories and threw it into Severus' current pensieve. 

Hogwarts would have been filled with the screams of a man if not for the Silencing spell.

Reviews are **extremely** welcome.


	2. The Serpent's Den

Standard disclaimers apply. Anybody who sues me proves himself that he is an utterly stupid dumbass who cannot think.

Summary: Contrary to what others presumably know or think, Professor Severus Snape is not a spy but the _employer_ of spies. And also contrary to what other people think, Albus Dumbledore is really manipulative bastard more than genial omnipotent old coot he's made himself to be, and Harry is in grave danger with him.

**Silver, Mercury and Moonlight are not the color of a spy's cloak**

_Astral Fou-lu_

Author Note: 

Pyramidal Apollo and nptrenko – thank you! Your to reviews was what compelled me to pick up on this fic.

Hermione caught the man reeling forward towards her and muttered a Relaxing charm, leaving Severus breathing hard in her arms, the both of them almost sprawled on the cold stone floor. _He's right_, she thought. _We cannot help it._ Things had gone so far that Severus Snape went so far as to let a trusted member of his own circle of spies pull out part of his memory. He didn't merely let Hermione Granger, the Facilitator to whom he had entrusted the taks of spying on the Boy-Who-Lived _Obliviate_ him, he had made sure no part would be Uncovered by an anti-Obliviate spell. He made sure that it was thrown out and put in a pensieve that would be properly disposed of later on. Unlike the usual use of the pensieve, which is the recording of memories, this particular one involves a total transfer of memories in such a way that it leaves nothing of the memory in it's owner. Which was in the very least painful.

The process wasn't finished yet, though. Hermione put out the other pensieve and poured the contents on the wound on top of Snape's head. _Merlin, he should use my brand of shampoo_, she thought, then admonished herself in lettinng her thoughts stray. Such a careless act could give Snape tendencies to do his everyday hygiene habits the female way, sine the next step involved Hermione transferring thoughts which she had concocted for the purpose to replace the ones she had pulled out. 

It was of him going into Hogsmeade to buy peppermint. _Revenge, though mild._ As the contents were all emptied out and into Snape she performed a charm to close the wound.

After the process Hermione had been the one to stand up first, pulling a hyperventilating Snape up and prodded him gently to the nearest stool. "There, there, now, Sir. What do you remember…?" 

"I left peppermint by that cauldron over there," he said weakly, steadying himself on his stool. "What the hell am I doing with candy?"

Hermione let herself a chuckle. _Well, at least he could not remember where he had sent Emeliore._ "For my reward, maybe." She walked away from the tired professor and picked up the two pensieves. 

Severus rubbed his temples. "I could not, for the life of me, remember what I am I going to do with those toxic sweets," he admitted acidly. "But I suppose you could have them, Granger."

As Hermione destroyed the pensieve which had Severus' original memories into a mixture of fine ash and drops of silver plasma she turned her head to look at her sullen professor. "So the candy's on the house, isn't it, Snape?"

"Careful, Granger," Severus growled half-heartedly. "Or I'll receive recompense in kind other than candy."

"Fine, fine," Hermione waved off artlesstly, pouring the debris which were delicate memories into the sink, into the sewers, never to be recovered again.

  


Draco Malfoy yawned a wee bit too loudly that it gained an hour's worth of detention with Filch from Professor James Potter. Which was odd, since James Potter was generally lenient with his students, even those from the Slytherin house. 

He shifted in the seat in Potter's office, waiting for him. As he looked around the room, he quickly deduced that the popular notion that Professor James Potter being a compassionate and caring being was very much true. An out-of-place stuffed toy perched on a dresser which was in turn cluttered with various memorabilia, a vase full of flowers charmed not to wilt forever was placed on the table beside him and a box of sugar quills, presumably for visiting younger students occupied a corner of the teacher's desk.

_No wonder the kids love him. I reckon I like him too,_ Draco admitted to himself.

He was contemplating on filching one of the sugar quills for himself when a soft creak resounded from the left. 

"Professor," Draco said, standing up.

"No need to be so formal, Draco," James said, gesturing for the Slytherin to sit down. "Are you getting soft, son of Malfoy?" James quipped, but Draco was not sure for the life of him why or for what. James put down his battered case on the dresser on his way to sit on his desk.

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, his eyes narrowing. Even he could not tell whether James was making fun of him.

James smiled knowingly, making Draco relax and put aside his doubts. "I was waiting for you to do something to my son that would merit my full wrath and detention."

"Eh? What happened to your Gryffindor bias?" Draco gaped at his Transfiguration professor, which ultimately made him look like a goldfish. He was being made fun of, **now** he was sure of it. _The blasted vampire, why did ever Dumbledore hire him?_

James lifted an eyebrow at his expression. "Now, now, don't be tense around me. I just needed to have an excuse to talk to you, is all."

Now Draco, once again, visibly relaxed. _I swear, talking to Harry's father is like a roller-coaster ride for my heart_, he thought. "Oh. So what do you want?"

James sobered. "I just wanted to know how much Harry is communicating privately with the Headmaster."

"I can't answer that properly, sir. I'm in Slytherin, in case you forgot."

"I know, but I couldn't ask those questions to those close to him, it would arouse suspicion. Not to mention my son hates me." James slightly cringed at the matter, running his hands through his hair. Ever since he was discovered alive by the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore hired him into the Hogwarts staff to pull Harry's strings. At first, it worked, and a happy reunion ensued for two weeks, until James ("Stupidly," as Severus would say) could not stop himself from jabbering about how he was just used by Dumbledore, and Harry's alienation towards his father was incensed into hatred when Dumbledore let out 'confidentially' to Harry that James was actually a vampire, and in addition planted some seeds that James would not know of which helped Harry's hatred against James grow into forest fire. Something that involved his mother's death.

"Pity," Draco murmured sincerely. "I hope Voldemort gets Dumbledore."

James shook his head. "If ever that happens Dumbledore's wishes would be instantly granted. We should keep him alive until all of these clear up."

Draco suddenly brightened up. "How about Granger?"

"What about her?"

"She is somehow involved with Professor Severus' group," Draco confided. "You know…"

"Ah," James said, realization dawning. "Yes…yes, I wouldn't put past Severus to choose someone close to Harry who also had a potential to aid the cause…but how did he recruit her?"

"Something happened to Granger," Draco muttered darkly.

"Which is…?" James prodded.

"…a trade secret," Draco finished. "She told me not to tell anyone, except one person who could help her. I chose Professor Snape."

"A very wise choice," James remarked. "I'll do as you say. Would you please tell Miss Granger for me, to come here this evening?"

"I will, if you promise not to drain her of her blood."

"I'll make sure I'll leave some so that she could live," James quipped. "You'd rip off my guts if I kill your fiancée wouldn't you, Draco?"

  
A week later 

Severus only waited for ten minutes for the key members of the Serpent's Den to complete the attendance in the drawing room of his mansion. There was Emeliore of Frost, lounging on the couch, hogging the space ("Hey, I earned this, didn't I, Master?) with Draco being irked at him ("Oi! I also have the right to this couch!"), Hermione Granger was talking half-seriously and half-animatedly to Blaise Zabini, both sitting on large throw pillows, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, both also members of the Order of the Phoenix, were helping themselves to the food, and Gabrielle Delacour, the sister of the French champion Fleur Delacour had just finished putting her things aside, having just arrived. Elfienne Bolivar, the group's expert at Divination, was jabbering incessantly on the muggle phone, a trait not usually associated with those of her expertise.

Severus cleared his throat. Elfienne hastily muttered parting words and put down the phone, and the others have shifted their attentions to him. "I'll not dawdle away with greetings, as you already know too much has happened in the last few weeks since our last meeting. Are there any progress?"

Hermione, not unlike her usual know-it-all-self shot her hand up in the air, earning the uncalled-for laughter of Black and Bolivar ("Oh, shut up you two!" muttered Emeliore).

"I know this is not really related to our agenda but Professor Snape, I think you should know about Professor James Potter."

Severus' interest was piqued. So are Black's and Lupin's. "And what about?"

It was then that Draco cut in. "Last Monday he called me down on the pretext of my yawning being too loud and…"

"You deserve it…" Emeliore broke in, stretching his limbs and at up straight.

Draco threw an irritated look at Emeliore but proceeded with his report. "It turned out that he just needed an excuse to talk to me. He wanted to know how often Harry met with Dumbledore privately."

"It would seem that James Potter finally suspects," Snape assessed. "Go on, Draco."

Puffing up with seeming importance, he beamed sardonically at Emeliore who in turn glowered with mock anger. "I advised him to ask Hermione here instead, since she's the one closest to Harry among all of us."

"I told Professor Potter that Dumblesdore talks to Harry three times a week at most," Hermione said.

Silence filled the room for a moment.

"We do not know how much Dumbledore casts and re-casts the Memory Charm (which we still do not know of what kind, exactly), so trying to cure Harry at this stage is just plain ridiculous. Our cover will be blown, as will the membership of the Order of the Phoenix to some of us will be revoked," Snape told them. "We will just bide for the right time, then we will try to get Harry to our side. We need him, he's almost Tom Riddle's twin when we speak of power."

Remus cut in. "Is it possible that you will let James Potter in our group?"

Snape thought for a moment before answering. "The idea had just crossed my mind, however, what does he possess that would benefit our cause? The mere fact that Harry's father is a liability in itself. James Potter just attracts too much attention."

"Well, yeah, but James' magical ability is way above most of us," Sirius said. "He was Gryffindor's heir before Harry came along, Severus."

"That may be true, Black, but James' expertise is of more use in the frontlines, in which we do not operate, since having Emeliore here is enough (Emeliore grinned), and we need those with expert covert abilities and connections. James' only valuable is sadly frayed, since he had lost Dumbledore's trust and Harry's as well." Severus explained, digging into his pocket and fished out a cigarette. He lighted it with a discreet wave of his wand and took a long puff.

"Christ, Severus, I wish you were a bit more concerned of you health," commented Elfienne, who was sitting closest to him, slightly coughing.

"Consider that as my recompense for making me pay your long-distance bills, Elfienne."

"Geez, I'm just concerned, that's all," the dark-haired young witch huffed.

"Well, Severus? What is your decision about James?" Remus inquired, a bit impatiently.

"I do not know as of now, Lupin. However, may I trust Draco and Miss Granger to observe him and give me latest developments concerning him?" Severus said, turning to Draco and Hermione, who were discreetly holding hands.

Severus pointedly stared at the clasped hands, which tentatively let go by the flushing pair. "Er, well, yeah, of-of course," stammered Draco. The two seventh years were rivaling the Weasley coloring.

"And also tell us whether Malfoy's got a new heir, 'kay?" Blaise remarked.

  


Harry stared outside the window of his Divination classroom. As always, Trelawney predicted his death. She always did every day.

And then, as he was beginning to feel drowsy, his scar hurt.

"Miss Hannah, please fetch the Headmaster immediately!"

As he swam in a mixture of pain and nausea, Harry wondered why Trelawney called for Dumbledore instead of Madame Pomfrey.

TBC

Note: Yeah, this may be a bit slow chapter, but that was for the backgrounder! I'll deal with more action starting next chapter.

**Reviews are extremely welcome!**


	3. Son No More

Standard disclaimers apply. 

Summary: Contrary to what others presumably know or think, Professor Severus Snape is not a spy but the _employer_ of spies. And also contrary to what other people think, Albus Dumbledore is really manipulative bastard more than genial omnipotent old coot he's made himself to be, and Harry is in grave danger with him. James Potter also arrives at the scene, unharmed and a vampire.

**Silver, Mercury and Moonlight are not the color of a spy's cloak**

_Astral Fou-lu_

Professor James Potter quickly dropped his quill, spilling errant ink across the page that he was grading while the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw classes were practicing transfiguring stones into quills. As a vampire, he could read minds, which made him deal with the preternatural noise that the jabbering minds of those around him make. At first, he could not control whose minds he could read, only those who were in his immediate surroundings. Now, after thirteen years since he Voldemort sent a vampire in Lily's image to kill him (which was obviously thwarted) but instead made him another vampire instead, James could not only now focus his mind reading abilities to a narrower target, but also extend the range in which he could mind-read.

_Voldemort._

_Voldemort._

_Voldemort._

_It hurts._

"Harry," he whispered, and then hastily gave to the class last minute instructions since he would leave the class early and bid them to just leave their transfigured objects in the shelf reserved for their use.

Running at inhuman speed towards the Divination Tower, he seemed to his human peers as a passing tornado, producing a strong gust of wind as he went past them. If he could only increase the rate he was going a tad higher, then he could very well rival the Apparating charm as the fastest means of transportation.

As he neared the Divination tower he sensed two other presences other than his sons. He decided to investigate first, hiding himself in the shadows at the wall behind the hall the four were congregating.

"Well, Harry? What are you feeling?" Dumbledore asked, touching the back of his palm against Harry's forehead as if trying to sense if he had a fever.

"I feel sick," Harry put in bluntly. Although, James could read more than that: _I feel like shit. Voldemort's going to attack Hogwarts very, very, soon, but I don't want to tell anybody. They couldn't do anything. Might as well spend the rest of our lives happy._

James cursed. _Damn it, Harry! You were supposed to be stronger than that! What happened to you? What happened to my son?_ Obviously Dumbledore was breaking Harry into resignation everytime they meet. Dumbledore needed Harry for his own purposes, but to what extent he did not know. For Dumbledore, Harry was a very, very strong weapon. It took James the very, very hard way to find out.

_"I know you were the one who told Pettigrew to insist being our Secret-Keeper, Dumbledore," James had scathingly lashed at Dumbledore. "Tell me the truth! What was wrong with having Sirius?"_

_Dumbledore gave him the usual twinkling, though there was a disturbing shadow in his eyes. "For Gryffindor's cause, James, I decided that you and your son do not measure to being his Heirs."_

_James was dumbstruck. "Wha-what do you mean?" Then he tensed, anger showing in his bare teeth, realization hitting him hard. "You tried to kill us, don't you? You didn't only play with us, you played with Voldemort as well…"_

_"Be thankful to the fates that you weren't killed, James," Dumbledore said, his genial tone sugarcoating his words. "Be thankful that I gave you a position at Hogwarts, to be near your son again," Dumbledore smiled. "Keep in mind that you cannot touch me, James Potter. Because if you or anyone else does, it will only hasten my victory over Voldemort. You know that."_

_Only this time, Dumbledore's war against Voldemort does not necessarily entail the safety of the Wizarding World. He was only against Voldemort's ascension to power in the very reason that he saw him as his rival. Like Voldemort, he wanted to become the most powerful wizard_

_Dumbledore was as evil as Voldemort. Only, he was worse. He was betraying the whole Wizarding World_ _along the way._

Pulling his wits together he straightened his countenance and resolved to talk to Dumbledore and his son. _What hurt would that do,_ James ruefully thought. Stepping out of the shadows he pasted on what could be termed as a 'Remus Lupin' mask, termed so after the original kindly teacher, Remus Lupin. Approaching the small group he beamed and said, "Well, well, it's a great day isn't it?" gesturing with an arm towards the window showing the bright sunshine outside. Unlike other vampires, he could stand sunlight, as long as he wore the charmed band Remus braided for him around his upper arm. Remus Lupin, being a werewolf, was well-versed in Dark Arts and was more than eager to share his knowledge to his long-lost friend.

Dumbledore, not willing to lose his mask, James thought, decided to play along. "Yes, yes, very much so, it is a good thing that you could see sunlight, James."

James let himself a small laugh. "Well, yes, who would have thought?"

Severus, standing by Dumbledore's side with his arms crossed looked at James meaningfully, with a hint of his usual sarcasm. "James, your…son here has his scar hurting. Maybe the change of topic is in order?" James could tell though, that Severus was merely sizing him up. He knew that Hermione Granger probably told Severus of his suspicions…no, his antagonism towards the old bastard.

And Draco had slipped something about 'Professor Severus' group'. He had suspicions that there was an underground current running against Dumbledore's tide, only that he did not even suspect that Severus Snape was behind it all. What he knew about Severus Snape was that he was a spy for Dumbledore against Voldemort, just one of his tools. But Draco's small Freudian slip had propelled him to go to the _right_ person for help.

"Mmm," James murmured absently. As he read Harry's mind it was clear that he was under Dumbledore's thrall, so it was no use communicating to him telepathically, and so he just said, "What does his hurting scar mean?" he asked, although it was apparent that James already knew what it meant. 

"That Voldemort is coming," Harry looked up at him warily. James thought he saw a faint glimmer of familial recognition in Harry's eyes, but then his son cringed in pain. "Arrgh…"

Severus noticed Harry's reaction too, as he had narrowed his eyes.

Dumbledore then took it as a cue to wrap an arm around Harry and lead him away to his office. "Well, then, let Harry have his rest…"

James cleared his throat. "In your office?" he inquired. Severus surreptitiously went to his side and nudged him, thinking, _What the bloody hell are you thinking, James?_

_Trying to make Dumbledore's mask slip,_ James answered telepathically. Severus' eyes widened for a fraction of a second, realizing that James had replied in his mind, but regained his composure quickly. _Vampires._

_Well, what did you expect?_

_It wasn't meant for you, Potter. Are you going to give my thoughts privacy?_ Severus thought back, while he said to James verbally "Of course, his office. Do you have problems with it, Potter?"

"Only that I wish I would be granted more time with my son…" James whispered, but audible to the others. 

Harry clutched Dumbledore's arm tighter. "No, thank you. I think we had spent enough time already," then to Dumbledore, "Let's go."

The two walked away, leaving the two vampires, the one real and the other popularly assumed, standing side by side, silent but not in their thoughts.

_Mind reading and telepathy. Interesting._

_Could I read that, Severus?_

_You already did. And Potter, do you have the decency to leave my thoughts?_

_Don't worry, I'm going to read only your surface thoughts. And I won't stop until you help, me, Severus._

_What help?_

_Well, since we're only talking in our minds, I'll be frank: I want you to help me save my son and kill, KILL both Dumbledore and Voldemort._

"Excuse me…" a timid voice spoke up behind them. Severus and James abruptly turned around to see that they had been blocking the hallway. _What are they doing trying to imitate statues blocking the way? And Snape with Professor Potter? Weird…_ James grinned as he read the Hufflepuff first-year's thought. 

_Are they bonding with each other?_ Another wondered, sending James into uncalled for fits of laughter. Severus looked at James as if to say 'I'm not with this madman'.

James decided to part ways with Severus, with the realization that other students may think worse than that haunting him. 

_James, meet me in my office tonight._

_Huh? Oh, of course_.

_Still reading my thoughts? Damn you._

_Can't help it._

"Ah…the smell." James said, taking a deep breath, obviously savoring the scent of various herbs in Snape's office. "You know, you'd best be a vampire," he remarked at the Potions master who was just finishing in putting labels on his jars. "you'd be able to tell different kinds of potions by smell alone…not half bad."

Severus was thinking whether to enlist James Potter's services for their mission, but he had now decided that his mind-reading skills was a definite plus, more than Veritaserum.

"I was thinking, Potter…"

"If I would join the Serpent's Den," James finished for him. "Yes."

Severus sighed and rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Look, Potter, since I could not stop you from invading my privacy, could I just ask you not to let me know that you've been flagrantly reading my mind? It is very disturbing."

James smiled. "You've just told me that you don't mind me reading it. You're hiding nothing from me…that's not very Slytherin, isn't it?"

"I have nothing to hide." Severus grinned snidely. "Because there is nothing there."

Severus could very well gloat about how he disposes critical memories, only if Hermione left it in his mind. But since she also conveniently included it in the disposal process, he did not have even an inkling about it. 

James shook his head and concentrated on reading further into Severus' mind, but then the Potions master slammed a mug full of Ogden's Firewhisky. "I could almost feel you digging in my mind. You must be losing your touch."

"Hmm…" James murmured, his eyes closed. "Damn, I can't go further into your mind. What did you do?" 

"I don't know," Severus muttered as he poured himself a glass. "Why should I tell you?"

"Trade secrets, I guess…" James said, taking a long swig of the liquid fire, then raised his glass ("Where are your manners, Potter?" said Severus) "Cheers,"

"Cheers," Severus said, and he lifted the glass to his lips, but it never reached them. Severus suddenly dropped his glass, shattering it into a million pieces and he clutched convulsively at his right arm. "V-Voldemort…" Severus gasped, wide-eyed. "H—calling me…"

Alarmed, James supported Severus, letting him lean onto the mantle. Then an idea struck him.

"Severus, give me your right arm. Quick."

Without even thinking, Severus lifted his arm with the Dark Mark still burning, and James touched it with his hand, closing his eyes again.

"The Forgotten Mountains…" James whispered. "Malfoy Senior. Pettigrew…" James took time to curse loudly. "the others…wait," he hissed. "Voldemort and a younger Riddle?"

Severus, even through his pain, was aghast with wonder. _This man could tell the location of where Voldemort is without me going there,_ he wondered. _Elfienne will have a run for her money_.

_Miss Granger, Severus has his Dark Mark burning,_ Hermione heard as she was writing her thesis in her dormitory. Quickly she turned around, looking for the source of the voice. "W-who is it?"

"What, Hermione?" Lavender asked. "Did you hear something?"

_I'm not there, Hermione. This is Professor Potter. I'm in the dungeons._

"What do you want me to do?" Hermione asked the wall, making Lavender and Parvati stare at her as though she was out of her mind. She realized that James Potter had the ability to do telepathy, him being a vampire, but it wasn't well-documented and was written down as legend.

_Come here, quick. Send other members you could find, as well._

Having just received instructions given out by Hermione, Emeliore of Frost hurried into the direction of the Forgotten Mountains, half-flying, half-running above the trees of the Forbidden Forest. The wind carried him on his way, and he only stopped in the fringes of the Forest, realizing that the Forgotten Mountain territory was Unplottable. If he went in, not only would he be out of reach (and help) of the other members, but he could not use his little magic, as well. He may not fight as well as he could on the usual areas.

Perched precariously (again) atop a very high branch, Emeliore surveyed the area. He drew his sword just in case, and as he glanced at his right side he spied a black hawk swooping down at him.

"Shit!" Emeliore lifted his sword and lunged at the attacking bird. The bird protracted its claws and, with a loud shriek, tried to dig into Emeliore's eyes. The man effectively swiped his blade at the bird, cutting off half of its left wing, sending it spiraling down into the ground.

"Damn," Emeliore muttered, sure that the bird was sent by the Death Eaters, since he was given by Remus Lupin a deterrent charm to repel animal's attentions from him. _Unless that was an animagus_.

Deciding that he better risk all, he jumped off the branch and glided down to the ground, the wind supporting him. He made a sign of the Cross, for luck, the moment he stepped over the threshold between the Forbidden Forest and the Forgotten Mountains.

The moment he fully entered the territory of the Forgotten mountains, he had hacked one head off a Death Eater before advancing another step. He was being waited upon, and he decided that he should not waste the welcome. But one of the Death Eaters removed his mask and stared at him, leaving Emeliore stunned long enough for him to be knocked down, but not before he said the name of the Death Eater.

"Harry…?"

"No," The Death Eater said coldly. "I'm Tom Riddle."

TBC


End file.
